Dear Santa,
Evidence was presented to me today in the form of a picture from Christmas 1980, when I was 9, that contrary to my 31-year belief, you in fact, did bring me an Easy Bake Oven for Christmas. And thus, I must apologize for my 31-year beef with you.
In my defense, I was on the phone with Mom, searching for pictures of Nana, when I found the unimpeachable evidence and Mom did not recall that you had ever delivered an Easy Bake Oven to me either. That seems like something she'd remember, especially in light of my yearly reminder to her about how I never received it the year you promised it to me when I sat on your lap at age 5 at Marshall Field's.
In light of this discovery, I now retract my snide comment in my letter to you this past Christmas about how I'd forget all about your failure to deliver the Easy Bake Oven if you brought me a Man. No wonder you didn't bring me the Man. You just figured I'd forget all about him, as I evidently did with the Easy Bake Oven.
To be honest, the only reason I can think of for forgetting about the Easy Bake Oven, is that shortly after that, our house burned down and my world was pretty much turned upside down. I realize that's not much of an excuse, but it's the best I've got.
I sincerely apologize if my 31-year vendetta has caused you any ill publicity or feelings. Certainly, that was never my intention. You clearly brought me the Easy Bake Oven and somehow, I did not remember. That is my fault. Not yours.
I promise to leave you extra cookies and milk this Christmas to try to make up for my egregious transgression.
But now that I've apologized and all is good between us again . . . Can we please talk about that Man I'm still waiting for? Seriously, it's March and he still hasn't arrived. I'm REALLY not getting any younger.
Love,
Jessica
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